


drink/drank/drunk

by lallybyrne



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Party, Derek is a Failwolf, Drinking, Drinking Games, Drunkenness, Fluff, Insecure Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 21:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4496124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lallybyrne/pseuds/lallybyrne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>21st birthdays are not the same without actual, getting-drunk drinking, and Stiles will absolutely not allow Scott’s to go by without a real party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles prides himself on being an excellent bro. He also tries his best to be a good friend, of course - to include Cora when the rest of them tell war stories about high school, to google heavily so he can understand conversations with Lydia about her classes at MIT, to invite Erica to the movies just the two of them every once in a while - but his obligations as a bro transcend pack bonds, friendship, and common sense. He’d thrown his lot in with Scott before either of them could read - minor details like time, girlfriends, boyfriends, and lycanthropy weren’t going to stand in the way of that.

Stiles’s 21st birthday had fallen over most of their spring breaks and the whole pack had driven up to Lydia’s lake house for a week of swimming, overly-competitive board games, and spending more time together than they had since the summer. It had been heaven, and the only improvement Stiles could imagine was if his whole pack had been able to join in when he, Allison, and Lydia got hammered on the actual night of his birthday. The whole pack had a great night, joining in on the drinking games and humoring him when he got overly serious and started telling everyone how much he loved them, but he knew it wasn’t the same. Stiles was determined to find a way for all of his friends to get drunk together.

Since high school they (Lydia and Stiles, mostly, with enthusiasm from most of the pack and grudging acceptance from Derek) had been working on a wolfsbane concentration to try to get the werewolves drunk. After Lydia’s disastrous 17th birthday the wolves were nervous to be test subjects, and Derek was too young to remember any of the family recipes, so they had never really made much progress.

Scott’s 21st was coming up, and the surprise party the pack was planning took a backseat in Stiles’s mind to what he had taken to calling “the drunkwolf problem.” Mostly because Derek hated when he called it that. Scott rolled his eyes every time Stiles antagonized Derek, but he couldn’t get enough of their back and forth. Whatever. He just liked having someone to argue with, someone who would bicker with him about nonsense for hours just to keep a conversation going, someone who wouldn’t back down.

Everyone had grudgingly accepted Peter’s place as the pack’s creepy uncle, and luckily he didn’t really involve himself in pack business. He popped in to Beacon Hills every few months to make everyone uncomfortable, dispense advice that everyone ignored, and visit the vault. Outside of those trips he wasn’t really in contact with anyone. Stiles didn’t remember programming Peter’s number into his phone, and the fact that it was the only number he hadn’t labelled with a dumb nickname suggested Peter had somehow entered it himself without Stiles’s knowledge. Desperate times, however…

(2:46): _Peter. It’s Stiles. Do you have a recipe for wolfsbane alcohol minus the terrifying hallucinations?_

 **Peter Hale** (2:46): Why hello, Stiles. I’m doing very well, thank you for asking! How are you doing? I’m so glad you’re finally using this number!

(2:47): _Hi, Peter, how are you, hope your secret lair is having nice weather, thanks so much for breaking in to my phone to leave me a number that I wouldn’t be using if you weren’t a last resort, can I possibly trouble you for some information that costs you nothing and does something nice for your pack?_

 **Peter Hale** (2:52): Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that this is the most polite you’re capable of being. May I ask what the occasion is? I wouldn’t want you taking advantage of this information.

(2:55): _Scott’s birthday is coming up, and I would really appreciate being able to celebrate with the whole pack, not just the humans._

 **Peter Hale** (2:56): The whole pack! I’ll expect my invitation in the mail!

(3:00): _Trust me, you wouldn’t have a good time. Mostly because the party’s at Derek’s and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t let you in unless it was absolutely necessary._

 **Peter Hale** (3:01): Yes, my nephew does know how to hold a grudge. It must be hard to be so close to someone so unyielding. You have my eternal respect for dealing with his...moods.

(3:05): _Whatever, do you have a recipe or not? We’ve tried a few different concentrations, but so far nothing has worked._

 **Peter Hale** (3:06): Yes, Stiles, I have a recipe. Believe it or not, this used to be our most pressing supernatural problem in Beacon Hills. I’ll email you the formula we used most often. It can be added to anything and is mostly tasteless, though I’ve always been partial to using it in gin cocktails - the floral notes complement nicely.

(3:15): _Thank you, Peter._

 **ZombieWolf** (3:16): You’re very welcome, Stiles.

Peter was irritating and creepy and way too formal in texts, but Stiles had to admit that his knowledge of the more recreational parts of werewolf physiology sometimes came in handy.

It turned out the problem with his previous attempts was the strain of wolfsbane, not the dose. After a series of emails with Deaton that somehow ended in Stiles agreeing to spend a full weekend reorganizing the library the pack kept in a back room at the vet’s office, Deaton agreed to supply enough wolfsbane for a small test batch and a huge batch for the party.


	2. Chapter 2

It took another week of pleading before the pack agreed to have a secret trial run night while Allison distracted Scott. They did it the weekend before the party - Stiles wanted to make sure there was ample recovery time in case anything went wrong. Erica, Isaac, and Cora immediately started taking shots, and once Isaac started dealing cards for Pyramid, Boyd joined in wholeheartedly. Stiles had decided to stay sober to make sure there were no weird side effects, and after 15 minutes of a combination of begging and his best Scott McCall Puppy Eyes™ he convinced Derek to have a drink. Stiles poured him a glass and they stood in the kitchen watching the game.

“It’s actually not bad. I can barely taste the wolfsbane.”

“See! As long as Peter wasn’t fucking with me, which it didn’t seem like he was but of course you never know, this should work! I am the best friend ever!”

“Isaac Evelyn Lahey, there is no way you have two fours. There are not that many fours in a deck of cards and I DEMAND YOU TAKE A DRINK, YOU LYING LIAR WHO LIES.” Erica stood up to yell closer to Isaac’s face, and the whole room burst out laughing.

“My middle name is Marie, thank you very much. And DRINK MOTHERFUCKER!” Isaac flipped over two fours and Boyd started crowing in Erica’s face as she raised an eyebrow and very calmly took four shots. Cora was rolling on the ground in hysterics next to Isaac, and Stiles turned back to Derek.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s working, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Boyd get so…”

Derek was grinning. Stiles knew all of Derek’s faces - he'd become a lot more familiar with the happy ones over the last few years - but this was an entirely new expression. He was grinning so hard it looked like it hurt, shoulders shaking with laughter. He turned back to Stiles.

“What’s Isaac’s actual middle name?”

“Daniel, I think. Dude, how much have you had?”

Derek looked down at the Black Widow glass in his hand and rattled the ice cubes that were left in the bottom. The girls had decorated the loft with tasteful, utilitarian neutrals, and Stiles had immediately snuck in a set of novelty Marvel pint glasses.

“I’m pretty sure this was full?” He looked back up at Stiles, still grinning, and Stiles couldn’t help but match the expression.

“Dude. Peter did something awesome. I don’t even know what to do with that so I’m choosing to ignore it because YOU GUYS ARE ALL DRUNK!” Cora cheered from the table without looking away from the staring contest she was having with Boyd.

“Okay, Der, how are you feeling. Are you seeing anything you shouldn’t be? Are you feeling sick at all? Nauseated or dizzy or just off in any way?”

Derek was still staring at Stiles, and the grin slowly slipped off his face. He looked confused for a moment, and Stiles was about to ask if he understood the question (maybe he should lower the dose for the party) when Derek straightened up from his slouch so he was eye to eye with Stiles and looked at him with the determined face he usually reserved for going into battle or getting the pack to agree on a restaurant for takeout.

“Derek, buddy, you ok?”

The others had noticed their conversation, and Stiles could hear them whispering.

“Holy shit is he actually going to do it?”

“Shut the fuck up, Erica, I can’t see with all your talking.”

“That doesn’t even make sense, why would my talking -”

Stiles tuned them out as he realized that Derek was raising his hand towards Stiles’s face.

“Um, Derek? You still in there?”

“BOOP!” Derek tapped Stiles’s nose, yelled in his face, and then absolutely collapsed laughing. After a beat, Stiles heard the others laughing hysterically, and then a sharp crack. He turned around, and Boyd was on top of the coffee table, which was cracked down the middle from supporting his weight.

“Oops?” Erica fell on top of him laughing, and the table cracked all the way in half.

“This is going to be the best 21st birthday anyone has ever had. And you two are going to Ikea some time this week to get a new coffee table before Saturday night. And also, what the hell, Derek?!”

Derek was still laying on the kitchen floor, and Cora and Isaac had crawled over to sprawl on top of him. He had an arm around both of them, and tears streaming down his face from laughing so hard. Stiles had never seen him look so gorgeous.

“I had to make sure I wasn’t just hallucinating that you were here, Stiles Stilinski. For science!”

“Well Derek Hale, I appreciate your commitment to the scientific method. And I think you should all drink a gallon of water and get your furry butts to bed, because I have successfully gotten you all wasted.”

Derek looked thunderously offended, and Stiles was about to apologize for implying they couldn’t take care of themselves, when -

“My butt isn’t FURRY, STILES.” The wolves collapsed into laughter again, and Stiles couldn’t help but join them.

By the time everyone had made it to bed it was after 2, and Stiles decided to sleep on the couch so he could provide coffee and mockery in the morning. He crashed there enough that his favorite blanket was draped over the back of it, and he passed out almost immediately.

The next morning he had time to sleep in until 10, go to the grocery store and get breakfast ingredients (including those fake chocolate donuts Erica was addicted to), stop and get coffee for everyone but Isaac (who insisted on soda in the mornings), and get back to the loft before any of the werewolves had made it downstairs.

He was texting Scott with one hand and flipping bacon with the other when he heard someone sit down heavily at the kitchen island.

“Good morning, sunshine. This one’s yours.” He pushed an overly sugary coffee towards where Derek was resting his head on his hands.

“Oh God, thank you. Thank you so much.” Derek clutched the cup with both hands and moaned into it while he tried to drink without moving his head, and Stiles couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped out.

“So I guess werewolves don’t get to avoid hangovers?”

“I wouldn’t put it past Peter to have left out whatever ingredient helped my family avoid it.”

“It also may be the fact that I grabbed the cheapest bottle of vodka I could find to mix the wolfsbane with?”

“I take back my gratitude for the coffee. I’m never drinking again and I hate you.”

“Aw, Der-bear, we all know that’s not true.” Cora scrunched her hands through Derek’s hair as she sailed by, and managed to grab two slices of bacon straight out of the pan before Stiles could slap her away.

“Good morning Cora, and wait your turn. Breakfast is almost ready. I guess you feel ok?”

“I felt like ass when I got up, but I had a glass of water and took a shower and now I feel great! This party is going to be kickass, last night was hilarious.”

Derek’s face was back in his hands, and Cora looked over at him and snorted.

“You had an especially good time, huh Der?”

“What.”

“You were adorable, oh alpha my alpha, I love drunk you!” Erica and Boyd strolled into the kitchen, and after a few glares from Stiles they grabbed their coffees without trying to snatch any still-cooking food.

“Do you not remember?” Boyd asked, handing Erica a donut.

“I remember drinking a glass while you all were playing that weird game, and then pouring myself another because I didn’t feel much of anything, and then...were we on the floor?” He looks over to the living room. “Who broke the table?!”

“Erica and Boyd did, and they already promised to replace it before the party.” Isaac came in and cracked open a Dr. Pepper as he sat at the last stool. “And don’t worry, you didn’t forget much. You were just very committed to Stiles’s data collection.” The whole kitchen broke into laughter, and Derek looked confused and...nervous?

“Don’t worry, man, you were fine, nothing weird. Everyone was very, very drunk. I’m the best friend ever and Scotty is lucky to have me. Also, go sit at the table everyone, food’s ready!”

Stiles carried platters of eggs, bacon, and hash browns over to the table. When he went back to grab his coffee Derek grabbed his wrist from where he was still laying on the island.

“Are you sure I didn’t do anything...inappropriate?”

“No, dude, I promise. I asked if you felt ok, just to check for wolfsbane side effects, you know, and you booped my nose. It was hilarious. Way less weird than some of the trash talk that was happening in that game of Pyramid.”

Derek’s face was back in his hands, and the tips of his ears looked bright red. He was mumbling something. Stiles couldn’t understand with his hands covering his face, but he heard Cora groan and Boyd chuckle from the table. He put his hand on Derek’s shoulder to try to get him to look up.

“Seriously, it’s no big deal. I’m surprised any of them remember it at all, everyone was pretty wasted. You want some breakfast?”

“I’m gonna go shower.” Derek stood up suddenly, knocking Stiles’s hand off, and practically sprinted out of the room.

“OK, feel better!”

Stiles looked, bewildered, at the table. Everyone had clearly been watching, but whipped their heads around when they noticed him. His friends were very talented at many things, but subtlety was not one of them.

Stiles knew that he and Derek were friends. As things in Beacon Hills got a little less insane, they started hanging out in non-life-threatening situations. It started with their mutual secret obsession with Pretty Little Liars, discovered when Derek came in through Stiles’s window without knocking first. After a few excruciatingly awkward conversations talking around the issue they started watching together at the loft. They made it a year and two seasons before someone caught them. Luckily it was Lydia, who just raised an eyebrow and left. Stiles was still waiting for her to bust out that factoid as blackmail next time she needed something from one of them.

After Stiles left for college it felt totally normal to text Derek with updates about his days, his classes, and his insane roommate. He talked to everyone in the pack pretty regularly. He called Lydia every Tuesday morning during her coffee break. He and Scott had a standing Skype date Sunday afternoons that included catching up and video games and usually lasted at least four hours. He had a set check-in phone time with his dad every week. Derek was still probably the person he talked to most in his day to day life.

Stiles had been drunk a lot. School was full of parties, and when he was home with the pack he, Lydia, and Allison had Team Human nights where they drank a couple of bottles of wine and complained about living with creatures of the night. He knew how gross hangovers felt, and how embarrassing it could be to not remember something you apparently said.

Stiles knew all of these things, but couldn’t help but feel a little off about Derek’s reaction this morning. Joking around with Stiles should not be this embarrassing, right? Stiles was sure that at his birthday he had said and done things orders of magnitude worse than what Derek had done last night. Was everyone just lying to be nice when they told him that weekend wasn’t that embarrassing?

He sat and ate with everyone, made Derek a bacon and egg sandwich with what Stiles (and normal people) considered a disgusting amount of sriracha but which Derek insisted on, and left the loft before Derek came back downstairs.


	3. Chapter 3

Every year since they were kids, Scott’s birthday was celebrated with a family dinner. Over the years the attendance had changed, but Scott, Stiles, Melissa, and John had celebrated Scott’s last 15 birthdays together.

This year, Allison and Isaac were joining them. Stiles was happy to have them there, 10% because whatever poly relationship the three of them were in (no one ever clued Stiles in on the specifics, but a few hours of googling had made things much more clear) made Scott happier than he had ever been before; 90% because he was distracted by the logistics of the surprise party and making sure the alcohol was set up and knew he wasn’t being good company.

“Stiles, would you get off the damn phone and spend some time celebrating your brother’s birthday?” The Sheriff and Melissa had gotten married when Scott and Stiles turned 18, and John still relished every opportunity to call the boys brothers.

“Sorry, Dad, just making sure everyone knows the plan for after dinner - everyone’s meeting at that bar on 16th so Scott can have his first legal drink! You excited, Scotty?”

“Totally! This is so cool, I’m finally able to come to bars with you guys!”

“Not that you’ll be able to get drunk, of course.” Allison grinned at Stiles and he barely contained a groan. They were already being incredibly obvious about the surprise party - did she have to be like this about the drinking, too?

“I think it’s great - you’ll always have a designated driver!”

“Thanks mom, that really does make it sound fun.” Scott pouted, but his eyes were still lit up so Stiles wasn’t too worried.

“From what I remember of my brother going to parties, and from what I’ve seen of you guys after Human Happy Hour, there are some silver linings. At least we’ll get to avoid hangovers!”

Stiles rolled his eyes at Isaac and muttered under his breath “Most of you will, anyway.”

“What?”

“Nothing, Scotty! Nothing at all. So! High and low for last year, resolutions for this year?”

The rest of the dinner went by too quickly for Stiles’s taste. They went over their annual birthday traditions and their parents shared the stories of their 21sts (Stiles made a mental note to ask Melissa about hers again out of his dad’s earshot - he was pretty sure her “wild friend” who ended up on that cruise was actually her).

The waiter came around with dessert menus, and Stiles stopped anyone from ordering - “we have a cake at the bar, Scott, no sweets until we’re with the whole pack!”

“Actually, we should take that as our cue - Isaac and I have to swing by and pick up Erica and Boyd. Can you catch a ride with Stiles to the bar, babe?”

Isaac and Allison got up, hugged Melissa and John, kissed Scott, and walked out backwards winking and finger-gunning at Stiles the entire way. His friends. Seriously.

“Hey, before we head downtown I have to stop by the loft - I left my cell charger there and I’m definitely going to need it later.”

Scott looked at Stiles with a knowing smile, and Stiles was sure he’d figured out about the party. Oh well - keeping a secret like that was pretty much a pipe dream when all of your friends were supernatural lie detectors. Hopefully he hadn’t figured out anything about the real surprise of the evening.

“Sure, bro, no problem. You know, you don’t need an excuse to go over there, Derek always likes having you around.”

“No, I kn - wait, what?”

Scott just smiled and turned up the radio. When they got to the loft, Stiles got out and made it almost to the door before he realized Scott wasn’t behind him.

“Uh, you coming, Scotty?”

“Oh! Did you...want me to come up?”

“Yes? Come...help me look for my...laptop?”

“I thought it was your phone charger?”

“Wait, what?”

By the time they got to the door of the loft, they were staring at each other confused and Stiles wasn’t really paying attention when he let Scott open the door and head into the loft first.

“SURPRISE!” The whole pack screamed, and a good 15 seconds later someone thought to turn on a light.

Scott had immediately thrown his arms out in front of Stiles at the noise, and from the back it almost looked like he had half-shifted.

“HOLY SHIT YOU ASSHOLES THIS IS AWESOME I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!” Scott sounded thrilled, but still hadn’t moved from his defensive position in front of Stiles.

“Uh, buddy? Thanks for the thought, but you really don’t have to protect me from...our friends. What happened? You seem...really surprised!”

Scott turned around and immediately hugged Stiles and lifted him off the ground. Which, if anyone asks, Stiles hates. Totally hates. Never looks forward to.

“Of course I am, I thought we were going to some dumb bar! This is so much cooler! Thank you so much, I love you!”

Stiles looked around from his new vantage point, and he had to admit, it was pretty awesome. The loft was covered in Christmas lights, there was an intimidatingly large cake on the kitchen island (carrot, because Scott was gross), and a whole table near the windows covered in bottles and a punch bowl.

“You’re very welcome, and I love you too. And if you put me down I’ll show you your real gift!”

Scott immediately thunked Stiles back on the ground and glanced around eagerly for his presents. Stiles took a moment to look at the rest of the pack, faltering when he made eye contact with Derek. They’d talked in the week since their first drinking experiment, but mostly about the logistics of the party - who was buying what, who had to be where when, what color Erica and Boyd should get the new table in. They hadn’t really spoken since Derek had stormed out of the kitchen.

Now was not the time to worry about stupid werewolves and their stupid inability to have fun or be normal, though. Stiles grabbed Scott’s wrist and dragged him over to the drink table, and made a big show out of pouring him a glass of punch.

“Scottrick Tyler Delgado Stilinski McCall -” “Not my name.” “Whatever, Scotty, jeez, don’t ruin this moment for me. Scott, may I present to you, your first legal drink!”

Scott smiled bemusedly at Stiles, accepted the cup, and took a sip.

“Dude this is pretty good! What is it?”

“The punch recipe is apparently a Boyd family secret that I am never allowed to know, which, still rude by the way, I don’t know why you think I can’t be trusted” Boyd rolled his eyes at the jab “and it is spiked with the finest vodka money can buy.”

“Thank you, but I hope it wasn’t too expensive, man. It’s kind of a waste, you know…”

Scott trailed off when he noticed Stiles’s enormous grin.

“Oh, did I forget to mention? The vodka is spiked with a field-tested wolfsbane mixture guaranteed to get werewolves drunk with no adverse side effects!” Cora coughed in the background. “Few adverse side effects! Possibly a hangover. But a hangover you’re going to earn by getting DRUNK WITH YOUR FRIENDS ON YOUR BIRTHDAY!”

“DUDE” “I know” “NO, DUDE!” “Right?!” “BRO, YOU’RE…” “The best, I know.” “NO, BUT REALLY, THE REALLY BEST, THE VERY BEST.” Scott and Stiles stopped and stared at each other. Scott downed the rest of the cup in his hand, Stiles grabbed a shot from the row Lydia was pouring out and drank it, and they clasped hands.

“LIKE NO ONE EVER WAS. TO CATCH THEM, IS MY REAL TEST, TO TRAIN THEM IS MY CAUUUUUSE.” By the time they had finished the entire Pokemon theme, the rest of the party had decided to ignore them and start drinking.

Cora was sitting on the kitchen island, Lydia standing between her legs, and they were putting away a phone that Stiles prayed had not been used to record their whole performance. They each had a glass - Cora’s full of punch, and Lydia’s full of what looked like a vodka tonic. Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and Allison were sitting around the new coffee table and Boyd was dealing cards, asking them to guess suits, colors, and numbers for each round. Derek was sitting in the armchair a few feet away, jumping in when he thought someone was making a dumb guess, but not playing himself. Everyone had a drink in their hand, and Stiles quickly poured Scott a much bigger glass of punch. He looked around again, noticed Derek staring at him, and decided to go for broke. The drink he poured was more rum than coke, and he downed it and poured himself another before heading over to the table.

“Stiles! Boyd was just about to deal Scott in before we get to the game, and it makes way more sense if you play too, so you’re playing.” Erica grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled him down.

“Wait that wasn’t the game? It looked like there was already drinking happening, what?”

Boyd dealt them in while Allison tried to explain Up-the-River Down-the-River, mostly unsuccessfully. They played three rounds before Stiles stood up again. Somehow he had gotten another refill (Lydia, his mind supplied hazily, when she and Cora joined the game). Stiles knew he was drunk, but didn’t realize how drunk until he got to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He grinned at his reflection, walked very carefully back out to the living room, and cleared his throat loudly.

“CAKE TIME, BITCHES!”

The whole pack leapt up from the table, drinks in hand, and jostled their way into the kitchen where Stiles was haphazardly sticking candles into the cake. He got to 22 and started patting himself down for the lighter he knew was stashed in a pocket somewhere when someone came up behind him, reached into his shirt pocket, and pulled it out.

“I can smell the lighter fluid.”

Stiles sighed and started lighting candles.

“Thanks, old buddy old pal. I appreciate it.” He turned around after the candles were lit, and Derek was staring at him again. The looked at each other while the rest of the pack started singing Happy Birthday, and only jolted apart about halfway through. Stiles rebounded with an extremely loud “and many more!” at the end of the song, and Scott smirked at him for a second before blowing out the candles.

“Alright, I think it’s time for a new drinking game, and I think this time everyone should play.” The whole pack knew not to question that tone of Lydia’s voice, and started grabbing refills and bringing bottles over to the coffee table. Lydia whispered something to Cora, who lit up with a ferocious grin and grabbed all the shot glasses she could find.

“The game is Kings. Usually it’s house rules, but unless Derek objects I’m just going to come up with a list.” Derek nodded, and Lydia continued explaining. There was a rule for every card, drinking penalties for not following the rule, and shot penalties for breaking the circle of cards she made around five shot glasses. “Traditionally, there would be a cup in the middle into which everyone who pulled a king would pour some of their drink and the fourth king would have to chug the contents at the end of the game -” there was a collective wince “but because some of us have special beverages, loser has to take five shots.”

“Jesus, Lydia, that’s a lot of booze!”

“Well, Scott, don’t pull the fourth king.”

The game started dirty, with a round of the question game that Isaac immediately lost because he hadn’t been paying attention during Lydia’s explanation. It quickly got extremely competitive, and Stiles looked around and realized his whole pack was very, very drunk. Allison was sitting on Scott, helping Isaac keep his arm down so he’d lose on a 7 and have to drink. Cora and Erica were laughing hysterically every time Boyd looked at them and then whispering furiously to each other. Lydia and Derek were brainstorming what sounded like increasingly absurd rules to put in place in case either of them drew a king, and it was Stiles’s turn. He pulled a 10.

“OK, you guys, Never Have I Ever! 3 fingers!”

Everyone quieted down and put up 3 fingers, and Stiles looked at every member of the circle with an evil grin on his face.

“Never have I ever...had sex with anyone in this room.”

Boyd shrugged and immediately put down a finger. Stiles started cackling as everyone else in the room put down a finger, looking by turns resigned or, in Lydia’s case, terrifyingly confident. Derek was the only one not to have to put down a finger, and for the first time all night he wouldn’t make eye contact with Stiles. They played a few more rounds, and then Lydia pulled a 10. Erica went, then Cora, and finally the round got back to Lydia.

“Just as a clarification, for this part of the game you can say something you have done as long as you put down a finger as well.”

“Fine, Lyds, but you only have one left -” Allison started to question.

“Some things are absolutely worth it. Never have I ever masturbated to the thought of someone in this room.” The whole room went silent until Erica burst out laughing.

“Well played, Lydia. I’m out. Now you need to put that finger down and DRINK! Anyone else?” She turned to look directly at Stiles, and he shook his head, shot a glare at Lydia, put his last finger down, and took a sip of his drink.

It wasn’t his fault all of his friends were intimidatingly hot! Lydia had been the love of his high school life. Allison was one of the prettiest people he’d ever seen. Werewolves were...well, they were so muscular. And tall. And they grew perfect stubble that looked like it wouldn’t even burn when you kissed them. And they had gorgeous green eyes, and they were secretly really funny, and they liked all the same trashy TV as him. And he should probably be paying attention to the game.

He tuned back in just in time to slam his hand on the ground for a 4, and didn’t even notice the way Derek was staring at him again as he set his drink back on the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the objectively correct rules for kings are as follows -  
> 2 - you  
> 3 - me  
> 4 - floor  
> 5 - guys  
> 6 - chicks  
> 7 - heaven  
> 8 - date  
> 9 - rhyme  
> 10 - never have i ever  
> j - category  
> q - question game  
> k - rule/kings cup  
> a - waterfall


	4. Chapter 4

The game went on, getting more and more vicious as the cards dwindled. The rounds of Never Have I Ever turned into increasingly specific personal attacks (never have I ever...WORN A SCARF IN THE SUMMERTIME, ISAAC, YOU SMUG BASTARD), the physical rounds became mostly violence, and once the group realized there was only one king left you could cut the tension with a knife. It was Derek’s turn, and he wasn’t even paying attention, too busy laughing at Scott’s failure of a waterfall from the last round, when he pulled the final king. The group immediately started a slow clap, and Lydia grabbed the wolfsbane-laced bottle of vodka and began pouring shots.

“Congratulations, Derek - there are a few cards left so you don’t have to slam these all in a row, you can take your -” Lydia hadn't even finished her sentence before Derek started taking the shots, and had finished them all in under a minute. He stood up, took a clumsy bow to thunderous applause, and collapsed back in the armchair giggling. The game ended quickly after that, and the suggestion of a new game was abandoned to the idea of lounging around and drinking some more.

“Stiles, you had a test night?! You’re the best friend in the whole world and for your 22nd birthday I’m going to buy you 100 ponies.”

“Thanks buddy! I’m going to name them all Scott because YOU’RE the best friend in the entire world and I fucking love you.”

“Stiles, you know you’re not dating them, right? You two are creepy.” Cora interrupted.

“Shut up, you don’t understand our bond. Our bro-bond. OUR BROND!” Scott started laughing hysterically, and fell back into Allison’s lap with a thunk. “I still want to hear about test night though! Did everyone get drunk!”

“Yeah, man, they were wasted. Boyd and Erica broke the coffee table, and Isaac and Derek and Cora ended up in a cuddle pile on the kitchen floor, which is crazy because obviously the living room floor is way more comfortable, because carpet.”

Scott sat up, looking deadly serious, and only swaying a little.

“WE should have a cuddle pile.” He hadn’t even finished the sentence before Isaac was bounding over and rearranging them so that Allison wasn’t buried under a pile of werewolves. Lydia hopped on Cora’s back and let her place them around Isaac’s side, and Boyd and Erica took spots behind Allison. Stiles scrambled over to spoon around Scott’s other side, and he felt Derek come up behind him to bracket their side of the cuddle pile. There was some rearranging and giggling, but within 20 minutes Stiles realized that most of the group was asleep.

He was absolutely drunk, but still felt too awake to pass out with his friends. He pulled Derek’s arm from around his waist, stood up gently to avoid jostling Scott, and started grabbing stray cups to throw in the kitchen so the place didn’t look so trashed in the morning. He turned down the stereo but let the music keep playing while he cleaned, and poured himself another drink. He almost had a heart attack when someone reached over his shoulder to put another cup in the sink, until he turned around and realized it was Derek.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to keep you up, sorry. Just can’t quite sleep yet.”

“You didn’t wake me, don’t worry about it. You don’t have to clean, you know.”

“I know, but this would have been gross to wake up to tomorrow. Might as well make myself useful if I’m gonna be up anyway, ya know?” A fork clattered from the kitchen island, and Stiles realized he was still standing backed up against the sink with Derek’s hands balanced on either side of him. He looked over Derek’s shoulder to see Scott eating straight from the cake and smirking at them.

“Sorry, Scotty, I should know not to clatter around when sensitive werewolf ears are trying to sleep. Good birthday?”

“Best birthday ever. And no worries, everyone else is still asleep. I’m just too keyed up still.”

“Hey, you guys wanna see something?” Derek said, slurring slightly. Scott and Stiles looked at each other and shrugged.

“Sure! Scott, you want me to pour you another drink? Derek, you want one?” They both nodded, and Stiles grabbed fresh cups from the drink table and filled them with punch. Derek took his and started walking carefully towards the door.

Scott and Stiles followed Derek past the elevator to the stairs, shooting looks at each other while they tried to guess where they were headed. Derek seemed quieter than he had all night, and Stiles tried desperately not to read into his whiplash moods while they climbed up two and a half flights.

Derek got to the top first and propped open the door with a brick that seemed to be there for that purpose. Stiles and Scott followed after him, and realized that they were on the roof. The building was only 10 stories tall, but Beacon Hills was small enough that they had a perfect view of most of the city. It was the middle of the night, and it was beautiful.

“Dude, has this roof always been open? This is awesome! We should have had the party up here!” Stiles looked around, scoping out the space and already planning their next party. He didn’t realize he was shivering until Derek was wrapping a sweater around his shoulders.

“Too cold. We’ll do it for a summer birthday next year - Erica maybe?”

“She’d love that. I think Boyd’s going to propose next year.” Scott mumbled. Derek and Stiles looked over at him, both shocked.

“He hasn’t said anything, or anything, don’t say that I said anything! I just get the feeling, ya know? Like, the way he looks at her, she’s said that she wants us all there when it happens, and by then they’ll have graduated, and I just bet he’s gonna go for it.” Stiles turned to Derek to see if he was convinced by drunk Scott as Stiles was, and smiled when he saw Derek’s watery grin.

“The first pack wedding. I can’t believe it.”

“I know, right? God, if you’d told me in high school this is where we’d be - I mean, jeez, if you’d told me I’d still be friends with anyone but Scott I would have laughed in your face. And here we all are…” Stiles looked at Derek, and he had the same look on his face as he did a week ago at the test round night. “Am I about to get booped?”

“I can go back downstairs…”

“No, Scott, stay. Stiles, what are you….? Nevermind. I just wanted to...I mean, you guys...we’re more than friends, you know? We’re pack. I know I haven’t always been the best alpha - “ “Dude, you don’t have to -” but Derek, swaying slightly, ignored Stiles’s interruption.

“I know I haven’t always been the best alpha. But I just love you guys so much.” Derek finished his drink, crumpled the paper cup, and threw it off the roof. “You’re like...you’re my brothers, you know?” He hadn’t finished his sentence before Scott jumped at him for a dangerous looking hug.

Derek squeezed Scott for a moment more, then looked over Scott’s shoulder, made eye contact with Stiles, and immediately went pale.

“You’re not my brother. Not...brothers. I mean, Scott, we’ve been brothers since this started, I just mean not...Stiles...you’re not...family. Not that you’re not...ugh, I just mean....”

Stiles’s stomach dropped out. Of course. This was the problem all along. Derek had been weird all week because Stiles did what he always does and came on too strong. He'd planned events in Derek's apartment, taken huge risks with the pack's health and safety based on information from Peter of all people, and it made Derek uncomfortable because he didn't trust Stiles. Stiles wasn't a wolf, or a banshee, or even a hunter. He wasn't romantically involved with anyone like the rest of them were. He wasn't on the same level as the rest of the pack, and Derek didn't know how to tell him. Scott looked like he was going to be hugging Derek for a while yet, and Stiles didn't want to ruin the moment. He smiled at Derek to try to let him know that he understood, grabbed his drink, and headed back inside.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles woke up with a groan, rolled over, and promptly spat out a mouthful of Erica’s hair. He felt absolutely terrible, and immediately regretted even the gentle teasing he had put the wolves through last weekend. Tilting his head up he saw everyone sprawled out on the floor, still asleep. Well, almost everyone, but Derek had presumably gone back to his bedroom after he and Scott came down from the roof. They must have been up there for a long time. Stiles had come downstairs and accidentally woken Lydia, who took one look at his face and popped up like she was completely sober, grabbed a bottle, and sat on the floor of one of the guest rooms getting even drunker with him while he told her what had happened.

The night got distinctly hazy after that. He remembered telling her what Derek had said on the roof. She responded with something about how ‘of course he was especially in tune with what Derek had thought of him, and of course that's the idiot conclusion your self-loathing idiot self would jump to.’ He took three shots in a row in response to that comment. He doesn’t actually remember making it back out to the living room, but he’s glad to wake up surrounded by his pack. Or what he had hoped was his pack.

Stiles was feeling extremely sorry for himself (and extremely hungover) by the time he half-crawled to the kitchen, snatched a bottle of water, and flopped down on the island. He blamed the hangover for the fact that he didn't notice that he wasn't alone until he heard a mug sliding over to where his head was hidden in his arms. The smell of strong coffee got him to raise his head, and when he saw who made it he groaned and put his head back down.

“Glad to know I still get beverage service at least.” Stiles mumbled into his elbow, knowing Derek would hear him.

“What are you talking about? Drink the water, then the coffee, it’ll make you feel better. I made an entire pot just how you like it.”

“Yeah, cause black coffee's such a challenging order. You should be a barista.”

Derek snorted. “You know you’re the only one who can drink it when it’s made this strong.”

“I’m impressed you remember how I like my coffee. You’d think you’d save that brain space for facts about your actual pack members instead of wasting it on the groupies.”

“What?”

“It was made pretty clear last night that I’m pack-adjacent. I’m Scrappy-Doo. I’m Neville before everyone realizes that he’s the most badass and important member of the group. I’m...oh god-damnit I think I’m Dawn in this little supernatural drama we’re all playing out.”

“What.” Stiles looked up, because Derek sounded legitimately angry. “Did someone say something to you? Who was it? I don’t care how drunk they were, and I don’t care if they were making a joke. That’s not funny, and it’s not true.”

Stiles stared up at him, dumbfounded. Did he really black out again?

“You know what they say - people don’t lie when they’re drunk, they just lose their filter. Don’t worry, it wasn’t anything mean, but it definitely wasn’t a joke. This person just thinks I’m not as much pack as the others are. It makes sense, you know. I’m not a werewolf, or a banshee, or a hunter. I’m not with anyone in the pack like everyone else. I’m just...around. I’m friends with everyone, but pack is different, I know that. It’s more important. I know it’s more important to you. It’s family. Not everyone gets to be that. It’s fine.”

Derek looked absolutely stricken.

“Don’t worry man, I’m not going to, like, storm out in a huff and never speak to anyone again. It’s fine, and I’ll be fine. I’m just hungover and sad. A feeling I’m sure you remember well from last weekend, right big guy?” Stiles tried to crack a smile with the joke, but Derek was still just staring at him, with a look of horror dawning on his face.

“The roof.”

“Ding ding ding! Got it in one!” Stiles slumped back down onto the island, but before his head hit his arm he was being hoisted up by Derek who was suddenly standing right in front of him.

“Stiles, I was so drunk -”

“I know, I know you weren’t trying to be mean or hurtful or whatever. You can’t change how you feel, and you shouldn’t have to lie about something so important. It’s fine.”

“NO!” Derek growled, and Stiles startled, looking past him to see if anyone had woken up at the noise. He saw Isaac roll over to grab at Scott, but it didn't look like anyone was awake. “I didn’t say you weren’t pack. I wouldn’t say you weren’t pack. I could be blackout drunk and the thought wouldn’t even cross my mind.”

Stiles looked back at his face and even without being able to hear his heartbeat he could tell that Derek was telling the absolute truth.

“But...you said...you said we were all brothers, and then when you realized that you’d lumped me in you looked...I mean, you looked horrified. Like the idea of me being family was the absolute last thing you would ever want. The message was pretty clear, dude.”

Derek was still holding on to Stiles’s arm, but his grip loosened and he looked down at the floor. Stiles could see the tips of his ears getting red, and was absolutely lost.

“I was so drunk that I couldn’t phrase it the way I meant it. Scott is my brother. So are Isaac and Boyd, and the girls are as much my sisters as Cora is….”

“Jesus, Derek, fine. I’m pack, but I’m not family. That’s better than what I’d assumed, I guess. Just let me drink this water and take a shower and eat something and I’m sure I’ll feel better about the whole thing. I’m being overdramatic, I know. I just feel like shit, is all. It’s not a big deal, you don’t have to worry about it, I’m just hungover and I know it’s not that serious -”

“No, you’re not being...I’m still not saying this right. I’m not saying you’re less important than everyone else, Stiles, christ.”

“What?” Stiles looked up slowly.

“I’m saying you’re more important! Jesus, Stiles. I talk to you every day, and I still want to be around you all the time. You’re the only person I’ve ever been this close to, and then on top of that you’re smart, and funny, and you go way too far just to make sure your best friend has a good birthday. And the universe just loves fucking with me, because all of that and you couldn’t be unattractive because that would be too fucking easy! You had to look like...like THAT, and act like you, and be around all the time, and of course you can’t be my brother, you idiot. I’m in love with you!” Derek was breathing hard by the end of his speech, and Stiles could barely kiss him with how hard he was smiling, but somehow he managed.

The kiss was perfect. Stiles had a throbbing headache and his mouth tasted like garbage, and Derek was more focused on getting his hands all over Stiles than worrying about technique so it was sloppy and kind of gross. It was the best kiss Stiles had ever been a part of. It lasted about thirty seconds before someone wolf-whistled from the living room, and the rest of the pack started a slow clap. Stiles pulled away from Derek’s mouth, but didn't move an inch away from the rest of him.

“You assholes couldn’t have given us a full minute?”

“One more minute and I would worry about the cleanliness of our kitchen.”

“‘Our kitchen?’ Oh, sorry about that Erica, I must have missed your rent check.” Derek was grinning so hard it looked like it hurt.

“My birthday wish came true!”

“Aw, Scotty, you used your wish for my happiness? That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, you’re a true bro and -”

“Not exactly.”

“Excuse me?”

“I wished that you two would stop being idiots about each other. It’s been so annoying to watch, plus I’m like 80% sure I had this week in the pool, meaning I just made like $200!”

“I take it all back. You’re the worst bro ever. You’re all the worst, and I think as punishment you should take Scott to IHOP for breakfast and steer clear of the loft because Derek and I are going to be busy for the next few...” Stiles turned to look at at Derek’s face and turned back to the group smiling “days. Make yourselves scarce, monsters!”

They scrambled to grab their stuff before hightailing out the door, except for brief detours by Boyd to high-five Derek, and Lydia to kiss Stiles on the cheek. The door closed behind them, and Derek grabbed Stiles, threw him over his shoulder, and made his way towards the staircase to the bedroom.

“Brute! Beast! It’s been less than 10 minutes and the romance is already dead! This is only acceptable because it’s a great view of your ass, which I guess is the point, so maybe I’m not as offended as I could be, but still! Manhandling! You’re lucky I love you too, because -” Stiles was cut off by Derek stumbling into the doorframe, flipping him right side up, and picking up where they left off in the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> come flail with me on tumblr! http://lallybyrne.tumblr.com/


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